


She is A Stone

by petito222



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Minor Harrold Hardyng/Sansa Stark, One Shot, Political Alliances, Short One Shot, The Eyrie (ASoIaF), Vale - Freeform, Winterfell, alayne stone - Freeform, jon goes to eyrie, jonsa, might turn this into a multi-chap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petito222/pseuds/petito222
Summary: Jon goes to Vale. And there's a girl.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

Jon finally entered the courtyard of Eyrie. He was tired of climbing the treacherous rocky gate. The road itself was defying the passers. But a witty guide, the girl called Mya Stone -bastard daughter of Robert Baratheon- had been there for some help. 

As soon as Jon entered, he saw the Hardyng boy. No wonder why the people were calling him the Young Falcon. Shiny blond hair, broad shoulders, tall, muscular. He had everything a lord would expect from a successor. But he was actually a lordling who had never been in a real battle. How old was he? Mayhaps a couple of years older than Jon but no more. His look, his gestures all were screaming the truth of his being a snob. A boy who had grown up with attention and flattery. He was chattering with some girl. Instead of Mya's company, Hardyng should have been waiting for Jon in the gates, not talking with girls in the courtyard. The girl Hardyng was talking to turned her back before Jon could see her face and walked to the otherside of the courtyard, seemed like she ended the conversation with an annoyance. Heir of Eyrie smirked after her. Jon couldn't see her face but guessed the girl could be the daughter of Nestor Royce.

He rode his horse through him slowly. Harry Hardyng noticed him and his grin faded and turned into a serious expression. 

“Welcome to Eyrie, Ser.”

“King Stannis sends his regards, my lord.” Jon replied calmly.

Hardyng was probably just a puppet of Baelish but still, Jon needed to be careful. All doors and walls had ears where Littlefinger was. As he dismounted from his horse, Hardyng shook his hand. 

Then, Jon sensed something. A feeling. Someone was gazing at him from the other corner of the courtyard. He was much more sensitive about things since Melisandre had...resurrected him. Even the memory of it was shivering. He swiftly turned his head to the brunette girl who probably Hardyng had been flirting.

When their eyes met, it was the moment Jon trembled for the first time, since he had opened his eyes on a wooden table in Castle Black. He had been familiar with those blue eyes once. They were no ordinary colour, they were Tully blue. He had already memorized the shape of those lips and kind face a long long time ago. 

It was her. Truly her. Absence of the auburn hair didn't matter for him. She was always radiant among the other girls.

Harry Hardyng realized Jon was looking at her. He smiled and turned his back to her, "The daughter of Lord Baelish. She's a _Stone_...you know. But still, gorgeous girl she is."

Hardyng was not much of a clever man. Talking about being a bastard in front of Jon even though he was knighted was foolish but Jon didn't care. Only thing he cared about was her. How...?

While questions were filling his mind, Sansa was looking at him with shock, with despair and with longing. She must had thought she was the only one left in the world. Had nobody to turn to. No home to turn to. The despair in her eyes torn his heart apart. Jon desired to run to her, wanted to wrap his arms around and whisper her she was going to be safe with him.

She bit her lip, slightly shaked her head with tear filled eyes as if she had read his mind. 

_We can't._

They couldn't. He understood. 

The black hair was explaining everything and Harrold was clueless about all. Jon felt a sudden jealousy, scratching his chest inside with sharp claws like a monster. She was the last thing from home. Sansa was home. 

Finally he managed to take his eyes from her when Hardyng led the way. He could wait some more just for her sake. 


	2. Chapter 2

The chamber was cold.

There was a storm outside, thundering loudly. Rain was whipping the windows. Jon was sure no one in Eyrie had never experienced a snowstorm. If it was going to be the longest winter, they were going to. 

Tomorrow, Baelish was going to accept him to hear what King Stannis offered. The letter Stannis sealed days ago was still with Jon. But he had to think about what he was supposed to do now.

Jon pulled a chair nearby the fireplace. The heat warmed his cheek sweetly like a kiss and he closed his eyes. Fire was dangerous but also was life. It was death and blood. A holy tool for the red priestess.   
He suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the door, gripped Longclaw. His muscles tightened. It was happening again...the instinct. But he sensed who that was. The jealous monster inside his chest purred with pleasure. The door slowly opened and Alayne slowly slid inside like a cat. She pulled off her hood as soon as she locked the door. Jon’s chamber was the only place for her to be Sansa Stark again. 

"You should have locked your door."

"I knew you were going to come," he replied.

For the first time after years, she smiled at Jon. It was a timid smile that made Jon think, she wasn't smiling much here in Eyrie...at least not sincerely. He stood up from his chair, they looked at each other in the eye for a second. As if she was trying to be sure, it’s him. He couldn’t blame her. The danger was always solid to Jon, he couldn't deny. But people must have played with her thoughts and emotions in King's Landing. 

In the blinking of an eye, she ran to him across the room. They have never hugged before. Jon and Sansa... they were always distant as kids. But not now, not anymore.

Her cheeks were freezing. Jon wondered where her chamber was. 

The scent of her was the same as he had been remembering from Winterfell. The scent Jon had smelled many times when she had been passing the corridors of Winterfell, walking ahead, leaving a fragrant whiff after her. It was sweet but there was a fresh note which reminded him of Godswood. 

She didn’t let him go for a while. He was able to feel her body was trembling and she was on the edge of crying.

“You are here. You are real.” whispered.

“I am...so are you.”

When she let him go, Jon pulled another chair in front of the fireplace then turned to otherside of the room and grabbed two goblets and filled them with wine. He’d prefer ale. But there was only one choice.

Handed her one of them, this would warm her up.

“Did you leave Ghost in the forest to wait for you?” she asked quietly.  
Jon bewildered for a second, “How do you know?”  
  
Sipped her wine, “I had a dream. I was watching Eyrie from the woods, hunting hares. I can still feel their blood on my teeth. You came afterwards.”  
  
“Do you often have dreams like that?”  
  
“Not since Lady has died.” her voice faded away. Jon remembered about Joffrey. Fury took over him but he kept sitting like a stone, “How did Joffrey die?” He had already heard of it. But she was the one who saw it.  
Her face darkened with a merciless look as she was watching the flames in the fireplace. Her eyes were more of gold while the flames were shining from them.   
  
“He died the way he deserved...Choked in his own puke and blood. Begged his mother for help as the blood began pouring from his nose and eyes while Cersei was screaming and shrieking.” She paused, kept on looking at the fire thoughtfully then took one more sip. “It is the most satisfying memory of me.”  
  
She turned her face to him. For a moment her hair seemed like auburn when orange lights of the flames shined from it. “He beat me, tortured me, and showed father’s head as a punishment.” exhaled, “I would kill myself if he wouldn’t died there.”  
  
“Sansa...no.” Jon whispered and reached for her hand.  
  
“Jon...I can’t feel mercy anymore.”  
  
Something in these words hit Jon. He was feeling the same. After the night in Castle Black, he lacked mercy. Never thought Sansa would be the same. They had passed the opposite paths but eventually arrived at the same point.  
  
“Don’t worry. We won’t need it." he whispered.  
  
She didn’t tell how she escaped from King's Landing after Joffrey’s death. The answer was obvious. 

_Littlefinger._  
  
But she asked how his and Stannis’ paths crossed. He told how he died, how the Red Witch revived him back from nothingness.  
  
“Since I woke up in the chamber of Castle Black. I’m...different. I can hear things, sense things. The rage flows in my veins like fire and poison.”

“You have to be coldblooded around _him_.”

Jon didn't answer it, “Did he ever...hurt you?”

  
She paused as if something was crossing her mind but shook her head quickly. He saw the realization in her eyes. She must have realized, Jon would kill him no matter what happens afterwards. Sansa waited a few more seconds until speaking, "He is going to betroth me with Harry."

The beast inside his chest stabbed its claws into his ribs. 

"Everyone including him expects Robert’s death. He is a sickly little whiny boy. People say he can’t survive the winter. Petyr will reveal who I am after he dies. That’s how he will hold power both in Vale and the North.”

"I don't trust him."

"You shouldn't. But he kept me alive."

Jon stood for a moment to think. "He wants you to use you for the North. And then?"

"I don't know...All I want is going home."

Home.

"We can't let Robert die away. He is your..." stopped, took a deep breath, "I promise, I'll get you home. Winterfell must be yours." Stannis had much more different plans just like legitimization but all those could be solved after they take Winterfell back. And there was a secret Jon need to keep for himself.

There is something else I need to tell you-" As they stood in silence he felt a shiver run down his spine. "Someone is coming." he whispered suddenly. Sansa stood up and put her hood on. Jon reached for Longclaw but Sansa put her hand on his arm.

 _Another shiver_. 

"No need for a sword. I'll be just fine." she glanced at the door quickly then turned to Jon again, rose up on her toes to reach his cheek and kissed tenderly, "Sleep, Jon... See you tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Petyr Baelish was a thin, slender man. His hair was black with threads of grey just like the pointed beard on his chin. He had greenish catty eyes that reminded Jon swamps which pull you inside and never let you go until you completely sink. But there was a friendly smile on his lips. 

Jon had never seen Petyr Baelish before but the man sitting in front of him was everything about the Littlefinger he heard of.

People were not afraid of Petyr Baelish when they heard his name unlike Gregor Clegane or Varys. There was nothing threatening about him in the first sight. Especially with his soothing smile. No one could claim he is an unreliable man, there wasn't any incident nor any clue about it. Hardworking son of a small lord, Former Master of Coin, Lord Protector of Vale.

But when he showed up in that private chamber for their meeting, Jon saw an elusive man behind those swamp eyes. His face was smiling but not his eyes. Something many people did not see. He immediately remembered Davos' words. 

_He is a man of politics. Always plays his cards wisely. We need to offer him something tempting and considering. Power. This is not the best thing to do but our only chance eventually to get the support of the Vale._

Jon was aware Littlefinger was thinking of him as a just a knighted bastard. A tool to be used by Stannis while taking Winterfell. But Baelish didn't know about Jon except from his name and kin. He was not a pawn nor an ordinary man. Stannis had learnt it and he was a man of his word. When he had offered Jon the chance of vengeance, Jon had never hesitated even for a second to take it. Stannis needed Winterfell and Jon was the blood of Ned Stark. 

_Not his son,_ he thought. 

“Welcome to my humble meeting room, Ser.”

This humble room was on the west side of the castle, and was seeing the courtyard wholly from its windows. There was a bed, a huge round oak table and many chairs. Jon sat in the opposite chair to be face to face with him.

“King Stannis demands the loyalty of the Vale to their one true King as you can see in the letter."

Baelish smiled as he kept his eyes on the Baratheon sigil sealed letter which he had had hours ago but had called Jon now . Then his gaze turned to Jon. Almost sincere, almost innocent. But neither. Jon could see that tiny spark of derision in his face.

"We are living through bad times, Ser Jon. As you know, Roose Bolton is ruling the North. And we definitely do not want their hostility since Lannister allies are in Riverrun." 

Setting a ground for his requests. Jon always hated politics, but he could play the game if it was necessary.

"So, perhaps you prefer the hostility of the King." replied softly. Using an iron hand in a velvet glove.

Baelish’s voice changed to a careful tone, "There are so many Kings, Ser Jon. We would like to kneel the one who can protect us from many threats."

It always had been obvious that Littlefinger was going to ask for power. Anything he could get from Stannis. ’Many threats' was another way to tell it. 

"But..." Littlefinger continued, "...as your King says in this letter, he offers me the support with his armies in Riverlands once the Winterfell will be saved from the invaders. I suppose your King still sees Tullys as traitors." 

Jon didn't want to speak about it. Offering Baelish the lordship was wrong. But there were other things and plans that Stannis didn’t tell Jon yet. Jon could wait. Besides, Jon’s priority was Winterfell. Also it wasn’t possible to achieve everything as he desired. 

"It's a pretty generous offer, my lord." 

Baelish’s expression changed.

"Let’s assume I agreed an alliance and assume twice the armies take Winterfell back. Who is going to be the lord of Winterfell? Is it you, Ser Jon Snow?"

Jon clenched his teeth. Baelish was trying to tear him apart between Sansa and himself. He never knew how close or distant they had been but trying anyway to see the result.

"Sansa... I saw her. She must be the true ruler of the North." and for the first time he involved his feelings to his words. These were things Stannis wouldn't approve. 

Baelish lifted his brow first, then his smile slowly widened. This was exactly what Baelish desired, Jon’s conflict between her and himself.That’s why he hadn’t hidden her from him, and had wondered if he’s going to recognize her. 

Was he thinking of Sansa as another puppet just like Hardyng or was she actually on...Littlefinger’s side?

No.

He would understand if she had been. 

Puppets were not aware of the masters behind them. But Sansa was aware of he's a puppet master. 

"I thought you might recognize her even after the small veiling we made to protect her from the harms of rumours and gabbers. But I must admit I wasn't expecting of a girl who grew up to be a lady and her bastard half-brother to be close."

His muscles stretched, a fire of anger burned his chest and spreaded the small area on his cheek Sansa had kissed last night.

"We were not."

"Oh, I see..." his eyes captured Jon, "So, your King is asking me to support him with Lord Arryn's men, continue being his Lord Protector until he comes of age and then go to my seat as the rightful lordship of Riverlands."

“Yes.” he said unwillingly.

Baelish stood up, stepped towards the window and watched outside. Tails of his robe shined with silver motifs. “Please, come.” 

Jon walked beside him and stood in front of the window next to him. Courtyard of Eyrie was bigger than Winterfell’s. Ground was still wet due to the storm yesterday. A bunch of guards were standing next to the gates and doors. Some lords were walking through. And Harry Hardyng was talking fiercely with an old stern-looked woman with a deep green cape on her shoulders.

“That’s Lady Waynwood. Ward of Harry. She is almost sure that he is going to inherit the Eyrie very soon. I must admit she can be annoyingly interfering.”

“Do you think Robert will survive the Winter? I heard he is usually sick.” Jon was all ears to hear his answer after asking his tricky question.

“Of course, he will. I will call the wisest maesters from the Citadel.”

Surprise took over him but tried not to show it. Jon definitely expected him to say mildly negative thoughts. But Littlefinger sounded so sure Sweetrobin would be alright. 

Jon instantly realized Robert’s life and death had always depended on Littlefinger’s profits -especially after Lysa Arryn's death. A night ago Littlefinger only had Vale’s men and Sansa to claim power in the North. But now he could rely on Stannis’ army, the Northerner lords who secretly want Stark rule and some Wildlings. No need for the nosey Waynwood.

But he must have guessed Stannis wanted Jon to inherit the seat in Winterfell even though he had not mentioned this in the letter. Littlefinger was surely vile but a clever man. Jon’s existence could destroy his plans about the betrothal of Harrold Hardyng and Alayne.

“After the years I spent as the master of coin, I became acquainted with Stannis Baratheon pretty much.” He was still avoiding using King or Lord and standing in the middle ground. “ Even if you said dear Sansa has the right, your King will want _you_ to be the Lord of Winterfell, Ser Jon. If you are honourable as the half of your late father, y _ou_ arethe man of honour he can perfectly trust. He is not going to accept Lady Sansa of Lord Baelish.”

Lady Sansa of Lord Baelish... Jon barely found the strength to temp his rage. Littlefinger was playing with him. Sansa was never his and she wouldn’t be his. For a second Jon wondered if he learnt about who came to his chamber last night. 

"I can convince him."

"No you can't.” he blurted out quickly. “You must have known he is the most stubborn man in Westeros. Sansa was a princess for a while. At least, until her King brother’s death.”

“She had no intention-“

“For Stannis, she _is_ also a traitor. Northerners may see her as the heir of Robb. It’s a risk he wouldn't take. I even suspect that you can convince him to spare Edmure Tully's life. Still, he may think being a hostage of Lannisters is enough as a punishment.”

Littlefinger had a plan. Jon had enough with games. 

“It sounds like you're about to suggest something.”

"You are young and unmarried. Not betrothed. She is young and unmarried. Not betrothed... _yet_. An arrangement can solve lots of things, easily." 

But this was the last thing Jon would expect.

“What are you saying?” he whispered with shock. Last night it was Harry Hardyng. This morning it became Jon. Littlefinger was so many vile things, but clever definitely was one of them.

“All I’m talking about is a possibility that can bring both sides peace and an alliance. Marry Sansa. Claim the North. And after you conquer Winterfell, we might go south and clean her mother's lands from Freys.”

Freys... He was hating Freys with every part of his body. Loathing them. Despising them. Disgusting from them. But would lords accept their marriage?

"The Northerners would-" before Jon could finish his words, Baelish interrupted him impatiently , "The Northerners-" then turned back his regular smooth tone quickly, "will accept this. Especially after they saw the slaughter of Roose Bolton, I’m sure they can put some things aside.”

“I’m a bastard.” replied dryly.

“You won’t be one anymore soon.”

Jon exhaled. Didn't ask how he knew, only wished Father would be here and advise him what to do. But now Jon only could trust his instincts. 

"I will get you my response to the letter tonight. You may leave now." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Snow...snow as white as furs of Ghost. The name Snow... So close yet so far. 

Jon stood under the weirwood tree as his heart was about to explode. 

He was tired. Tired of battles, tired of fighting. He could feel the blood in his mouth when it had splashed from Roose's neck when Jon stabbed him from his throat with Longclaw. Still, Roose's son had left a memory on Jon. The scar on his chest starting from his shoulder was aching even after a few days had passed. But strangely he was feeling fresh right now. 

Took a deep breath and felt the cold air in his lungs. Home...

Foot steps... Crashing the snow on the ground softly.

Jon didn't hesitate to guess who that was. He was able to sense her whenever she's around. He could hear her breathing, her heart beating, blood flowing in her veins. Existence of her was soothing the beast inside him. Was it a dragon or a direwolf? Mayhaps both.

Sansa knew. He had told her the night before. Her response was the most relieving one he could ever imagine.

_You are Jon to me. I don't care if you're a Snow, a Stark or a Targaryen._

She walked through the weirwood tree then stood behind Jon, slowly wrapped her arms around his chest. Jon held her hands, then turned to her. Gave her a slight smile and kissed her forehead as she asked.

"What do you think of Littlefinger?"

"We won't touch him until I come from Riverlands."

"So, do you believe in what the Hound says?"

Jon thought for a second, "He doesn't have any profit from lying. I don't trust him, but I don't trust Baelish, either."

Sansa didn't speak, just raised her head and looked at him. Jon could see the black dye but now her hair was mostly auburn. 

"A raven arrived before I came here. It says a friend of Starks is coming along with her company. Calls herself _Lady Stoneheart_. It seems -whoever they are- will be here soon. Maybe even today. Before you go to the South... " said silently. "I don't want you to go."

"I have a duty."

"Family comes before duty."

"I am going to destroy Freys. It is also family."

She remained silent for a while. Then whispered, "Come back to me."

"I promise. You know I'll keep it."

"I know." she smiled, then reached his lips. She kissed him with passion, Jon kissed her with love. 

**\----------The rise of the wolves started that moment. The Seven Kingdoms would never be the same.----------**

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who read. Means a lot.


End file.
